Escape From Servitude
by kiyoshi111
Summary: Multichapter. The story of Sweden and Finland, from their time under Denmark's rule until the present. This is basically one huge headcanon.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! This is my first Hetalia fanfiction so I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

**Summary: Multichapter. The story of Sweden and Finland, from their time under Denmark's rule until the present. This is basically one huge headcanon.**

**...**

**Escape From Servitude : Chapter 1**

FINLAND'S POV

I sighed as I crawled into my bed. It had been a really long day – a day spent doing mountains of laundry. My back hurt from crouching at the washing basin and my knuckles were raw from where they chaffed against the scrubbing board. My whole body was tired and my eyelids felt heavy.

I pulled the old blankets up to my chin and shuffled around, trying to get comfortable on the small and not-particularly-soft bed. Despite the bed, I found my eyes drifting shut after only a few minutes of lying there.

I was suddenly awoken by a huge crash downstairs, followed by angry voices. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but they were undeniably the voices of Mr Denmark and Mr Sweden.

Mr Denmark was in charge of the Kalmar Union and therefore the ruler of all the Nordic countries. He was loud, full of himself, and loved power. Mr Sweden… well, I did not know him very well. He seemed quiet and aloof, but I knew he had a rebellious streak. He didn't like doing what he was told and that's why Mr Denmark yelled at him a lot.

I strained my ears to hear what was being said, but I couldn't pick out any words over the howling of the wind outside and the creaking noises made by the house settling. I must've been too exhausted to notice all these sounds earlier, but now they seemed so loud.

After a while, the shouting subsided and the wind died down a little too, and finally, I was able to drift off to sleep.

…

The next day, it was my turn to go to the market. It was a two-mile walk to get there so I set off straight after breakfast. I quite enjoyed going to the market – it got me out of the house and among so many interesting people, and I also got the privilege of actually having money, even though I had absolutely no say in what it was spent on.

I grabbed a basket to carry the food home and set off down the dusty lane, listening contentedly to the jingle of coins in my pocket. Inspired by the almost-melodic sound of the coins bumping together, I started to hum a little tune. It helped pass the time as I walked the long distance to the market.

When I arrived at my destination, I wandered leisurely around the stalls, buying the foods I'd been instructed to get. After I bought a small selection of fruits and vegetables, there was just one thing left to get and I always saved the best for last.

A small bell rang as I opened the door of the bakery to be greeted by that wonderful smell of freshly baked bread. I inhaled deeply. There was no other smell in the world as pleasing to me as this.

I stepped up to the counter, behind which stood a pretty, young woman with her blonde hair styled into two braids. She smiled at me and asked what I would like. I smiled back and asked for a dozen baps. She picked twelve baps from a freshly made batch and gave them to me. I placed them in my basket and handed her the small pile of coins I had waiting in my hand. She gave me my change and I left, saying goodbye to her as I did so.

I looked down at the baps - all warm and delicious – and decided to have one. Denmark wouldn't notice. I'd helped myself to one several times before and he hadn't said anything to me. He only ever counted the change I gave him, never the amount of food.

I picked out the one I deemed the most tasty-looking and bit into it hastily. It was so warm and soft and it tasted so good. It was gone too quickly and I found myself eying up the other eleven. I had to restrain myself though. Denmark would notice if I came home with only a few baps, and besides, these were for everyone, not just me.

Still, I couldn't help stealing glances at them all the way home, and I swear they were watching me and whispering "Eat me, I'm delicious".

When I reached home, I immediately went to put the food away. I was just finishing when Norway came in the back door, carrying a basket of fish and a fishing rod.

"How was it today?" I asked him politely. He wasn't particularly talkative and I took every opportunity I could to make him speak. He was the closest thing I had to a friend in this house.

"Not too good," he replied. "I caught quite a few, but they're all tiny. I think all the big ones have moved upstream."

I peered into the basket. He was right – they were tiny. This was quite worrying. Fish was one of our staple foods - that and bread. I immediately felt guilty for stealing that bap earlier.

…

Later that evening, after dinner, Denmark ordered me to wash all the dishes and scrub all the pots and pans. I hated doing dishes. It was hard work; it was repetitive; and it was extremely boring.

I was in the middle of doing this hated task when I heard and small noise behind me and I turned around. In the doorway stood Mr Sweden – only for a second and then he was gone, but not before I noticed the large, ugly bruise blossoming beneath his left eye. That must have been from his fight yesterday. Denmark had one too.

I definitely didn't think Denmark was a bad person, as much as I did want to get away from his house and his rule. And, as intimidating as Mr Sweden was, I was quite sure he wasn't bad either. There was just something about the two of them – they just rubbed each other the wrong way.

"Hey, you finished in here yet?" a quiet voice called from behind me. It was Norway.

"Almost," I replied, picking up the final dirty pan and starting to clean it.

"I was just about to give Iceland a bath, do you mind helping me?" he asked calmly. I smiled at him and nodded. "I'll be there in a minute."

…

When I entered the room, there was a huge fire roaring in the fireplace with the round, wooden bath sitting in front of it. Beside the bath, Norway was sitting on his knees and trying to pull Iceland's shirt up over his head.

"Stop pulling! You're gonna pull my ears off!" Iceland whined as he struggled to get away.

"Just stop squirming. It'll be off in a second if you just stay still."

I sat down beside Norway as he lifted the now-naked child into the tub.

"Why do I always have to have my bath after Denmark?" Iceland complained.

Norway sighed. "Because he can do whatever he wants. Just be glad we're letting you wash before us, while the water's still warm," he replied as he started to wash the boy's hair.

"I really don't like living like this. All Denmark does is order us about. The power has really gone to his head," I confessed.

Norway hummed in agreement. "And he doesn't realise that he's pushing everyone away from him. You know, he still insists we are a family, but he treats us like slaves."

"Yeah! He's so bossy!" Iceland interjected. He styled his soaped-up hair into an imitation of Denmark's. "_I'm the great Denmark! Wash my dishes! Scrub my floors! Smell my feet! _" he mocked. I laughed at him and even Norway let out a chuckle.

"Okay Iceland," I said. "Close your eyes or you'll get bubbles in them." He closed his eyes so tightly that he screwed his entire face up. I giggled a bit at how cute that was. I knew he hated this part of bath-time the most. I raised the jug and emptied the water over his head.

…

The sun had already set and everyone else was away to bed. I was the only one still downstairs and I was in the middle of taking my bath – my cold bath. The water was starting to feel chilly and the dwindling fire did nothing to help. I yawned loudly. I should finish up soon and get to bed. It had been another long day and I was really tired.

My mind started to wander back to my days in Finland where I could just step into the sauna if I was cold. Saunas were amazing, especially in winter. I loved pouring water on the hot rocks and watching the steam this produced filling the room.

…

The next thing I knew, I had woken up on the couch with a blanket over me. I must have fallen asleep in the bath – yep, I was still naked – and someone must have lifted me out of the bath – whilst naked – and put me here. I briefly wondered who it was before deciding the first thing to do was to put some clothes on.

I pulled the blanket round me like a cloak as I stood, hoping to save some of my modesty and not wanting to subject the others to the sight of my naked body before breakfast.

I climbed the stairs as quietly as I could, trying not to wake anyone. I didn't want to have to explain this to anybody. As my luck would have it, a door opened to my left and Norway emerged, carrying a half-asleep Iceland. I thought it was really cute how close those two were. Norway had found him on a voyage to a new land many years ago and taken him in as a little brother.

Norway looked at me plainly, no hints to his emotion other than a small quirk in his eyebrow.

"I fell asleep in the bath last night." I explained, blushing because I was naked under this blanket. "I only just woke up so I'm going to get some clothes."

He stared at me with a look of shock.

"You slept in the bath tub all night!? You'll catch hypothermia doing that!"

"Oh, I wasn't in it all night. Someone lifted me out and put me on the couch. I thought it must have been you, but I guess not." I laughed a little, the embarrassment hitting me that some unknown individual in the house had seen me naked.

…

After getting dressed, I headed to the front door and slipped into my shoes to go out and fetch water. I turned to pick up the bucket, but it was already full. Hmmm, that was strange. Oh well, less work for me. Thank you, mystery person.

I quickly had some breakfast and decided to start into my next task of the day – churning butter. That may sound like fun, and it is – for the first few minutes, then it gets really, really boring. Still, it had to be done.

I poured the cream into the butter churner and got to work. As I worked, I heard someone shuffle into the kitchen. It was Mr Sweden. His eyes met with mine and he looked at me intensely. I averted my eyes, feeling intimidated by his glare.

I tried to pretend he wasn't there and kept working. Then I realised how awkward it was to have someone watch me while I move my hands up and down a pole. I stopped immediately and chanced a glance in his direction. He was emerging from the pantry with some food in his hand that I couldn't really see properly.

I didn't want to just sit there in awkward silence until he left, and it seemed too embarrassing to continue churning the butter, so I opted to start coughing. After he left the room, I stopped.

I resumed my work and it wasn't long before I felt another pair of eyes on me. I looked up to see Norway staring with a hungry and almost lustful expression on his face. I knew the look wasn't directed at me though. That look, I had learned, was reserved for butter – something which he loved immensely.

He usually kept such a calm, cool demeanour so it was funny to see such an absurd expression on him. I wondered if he knew he looked like a wolf that had just discovered a flock of defenceless hens, when he looked at butter.

After a prolonged moment of staring, he finally asked, "Is it almost done?"

"I don't know. I'll check it now," I replied, stopping my ministrations and removing the lid to check the consistency. I peered in, leaning closer to get a better look. Just at that moment, my foot slipped on the floor and I went reeling forwards.

Everything went black, and it took me a moment to realise my head was now wedged into the butter churner. I let out a shriek, placing my hands on the sides of the huge container and trying to free my head from it. It wouldn't budge!

"Help me! I'm stuck!" I called to Norway, my voice echoing inside the barrel.

Suddenly, I heard some very obnoxious laughter. It was Mr Denmark. _Why is it when something embarrassing happens to me, everyone has to witness it?_

"This looks like a job for your fearless leader!" he announced. "Norway, you grab him and pull on three!"

I felt Norway's arms wrap themselves around my waist. This was a very awkward position. I was bent over, with my butt in the air and now his junk was pressed right up against my ass as he tried to get a firm grip on me. I felt someone, probably Denmark, grab the churner and lift it off the ground horizontally.

"One, two, THREE!" I heard him say and, simultaneously, they began to pull in opposite directions. The pain around my ears was horrible. If Iceland complained that having his tight-necked shirt pulled off hurt again, I'd tell him it can't possibly be worse than this. All of a sudden, the pressure around my head disappeared and I saw light again as I went flying backwards with Norway, the two of us crashing into the wall behind us.

I looked over my shoulder at Norway to see him wincing in pain. I realised it was because I was crushing his 'crown jewels' and quickly shifted my hips, too shocked by the recent events to actually move off him completely. I looked over to Denmark on the other side of the room, lying on the floor with the butter churner still in his arms. He looked from Norway to me and burst out laughing. I started laughing too and the rhythmic shaking behind me told me Norway was shaking with silent laughter.

Eventually, Denmark got to his feet and walked over to us, offering his hand to Norway, who accepted it and was pulled to his feet. Denmark looked down at me, still on the floor, with a big grin and said, "You better get cleaned up before Norway eats ya!" Then he was gone.

What did he mean by that? Why would he eat me? I rubbed a hand through my hair, soon discovering that both my face and hair were covered in butter.

"Here let me help you clean it off," Norway offered, kneeling in front of me.

"Just don't lick it off me," I teased.

"That's not what I meant!" he huffed, shoving a soaking-wet cloth in my face in mild annoyance.

…

After I was clean, Norway picked up the butter churner, setting it upright and examining the contents.

"It looks ready to me," he said calmly, scooping some out and placing it in a small bowl. He then selected two of the baps I had bought and placed them on the metal grill that hung above the fire.

This was something of a weird habit of his. He would leave his baps on the grill just long enough for them to be warm, then he would dip them in butter and eat them like that. I briefly wondered if other Norwegians did that too or if it was just one of his quirks.

Just at that moment, Iceland entered the room, quickly seating himself on a chair beside Norway (a chair he had to practically climb onto because of his small size). Norway then tore his remaining bap in in two, handing one half to the younger one and pushing the bowl of butter towards him. The two 'brothers' ate together in a similar fashion and I decided to leave them in peace.

...

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Escape From Servitude : Chapter 2**

Finland's POV

I was in the kitchen, cleaning down the work surfaces, when I heard a loud smash coming from the next room. It sounded like some large (and probably expensive) ornament had been broken. It was immediately followed by Denmark's angry voice. From what I could make out of the ensuing argument, Sweden had broken it on purpose because he was sick of being ordered to clean while Denmark just sat on his ass, drinking.

I ran out into the hall to see what all the commotion was about. I saw Mr Sweden stomping up the stairs, a murderous look on his face.

"Oi! Don't just walk away from me!" Denmark shouted, hot on his heels and expression just as angry.

They disappeared from view and I heard a door being opened so violently that it slammed into the wall, probably leaving a big dent.

"Hey! What's that?" Denmark shouted overhead. "Whaddya think you're doing!? Put that down! That's an order!"

I felt the fear rising inside me. What the hell was happening up there? I wasn't given time to dwell on that question before I was given an answer. Sweden stormed back down the stairs, carrying a huge camping bag on his back – and he was heading for the door!

"You can't leave! I don't allow you!" Denmark screamed.

"Can't st'p me," Sweden replied, flipping over a nearby table and subsequently breaking another ornament. This riled Denmark up even more. He lunged forward, grabbing Sweden by the arm and pulled him back from the front door. Sweden swung his arm, slamming the Dane into the nearest wall and causing him to relinquish his grip, and then he was gone.

All of a sudden, the house was quiet. No one dared to speak. Denmark was still too shocked as he leaned against the wall he just been slammed into. I finally noticed that Norway was here too, standing speechless in the doorway with Iceland hugging his leg and crying in fear.

I couldn't believe the events that had just transpired. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was unable to move. It took a moment for everything to sink in and then it hit me – Sweden was gone! He'd escaped and he was free!

This was it! This was my one chance to do the same. I ran up the stairs as quickly as I could, throwing open my bedroom door. I grabbed my old camp bag out of the bottom of my closet and filled it with my few, meagre possessions. I pulled the drawstring closed and swung the bag onto my back before racing down the stairs and out the door, shouting "I'm sorry" as I left but not taking time to look at anyone.

I ran down the lane, hoping that Mr Sweden had stuck to the path and that I would catch up to him soon. I wouldn't be able to make it on my own and I couldn't return to Denmark's house, not now.

I was lucky enough to catch up to him just where the lane opened out onto a road. He stopped and turned to look at me as I approached him. I stopped too, keeping a wary distance as I regained my breath. He regarded me for a moment. After noting my bag, he gave a curt nod accompanied by a grunt before turning away from me and walking down the road.

I fell into step behind him, finding it too awkward to walk by his side since he was practically a stranger and probably still filled with anger from his fight with Denmark.

…

We walked for a while in complete silence and I wasn't really sure how to start up a conversation. I was naturally quite talkative but I had no idea what I could possibly say to Mr Sweden. Eventually, he broke the silence.

"Yer bag," he said simply, holding out his hand. I debated in my head whether this was a wise decision.

Was he just offering out of kindness, or was this some strategic move to keep me from escaping? I would be unlikely to leave him without my supplies, after all. And my bag was pretty light compared to his, so the latter seemed more plausible. But on the other hand, I didn't want the first thing I said to him to be "no" so I slipped it off my shoulder and handed it to him, mumbling a quick "thank you".

We continued on without saying another word until my stomach gave a loud rumble. I hadn't eaten dinner and I'd been stupid enough to not bring any food. Sweden must have heard my stomach's plea for food because he turned to me and said, "I h've crackers."

We decided that we had walked enough for today and moved off the road. We laid out our sleeping bags and climbed into them because the temperature really did plummet at night. After we were settled, Sweden retrieved a woven napkin from his bag and unfolded it to reveal a collection of crackers.

He offered them to me and I timidly took a few, thanking him again before nibbling on them slowly. Honestly, I would have preferred some proper food, but I suppose the crackers made sense. Sweden had obviously been planning to leave for a while and was gathering what food he could without Denmark noticing. He couldn't really have brought anything perishable.

After I finished eating, I decided to break the silence since I wasn't sure if it was a comfortable one or an awkward one.

"This is fun, ja? I'm glad that we ran away from Mr Denmark and stuff, so … um… what are we going to do now? We've got all these mean countries around us.

It's kinda scary, isn't it?" I closed my eyes as I thought about the future with some uncertainty.

"To be honest with you, I'm a little worried."

I gasped, opening my eyes suddenly as I realised this might have offended him.

"Well, I mean not you. I'm not worried about you, of course."

Sweden made a noncommittal grunt.

"Yeah, 'cause worrying won't get me anywhere." I laughed nervously.

I had to do something to lighten this tense atmosphere. Maybe if we went to sleep, everything would be better in the morning.

"So we should go to sleep now… right?"

"I guess, ja."

I let out a gasp, his words catching me off guard. I was expecting another grunt.

"If you want t' go t' sleep, we can."

"Yes, I do want to. Well, good night then," I said lying down and quickly pulling the blanket over me. _Holy Martin Luther is he scary. Maybe I was too hasty and should've stayed with Mr Denmark. Stupid spontaneity! Calm down Finny, we'll be fine. After all, he doesn't seem like he's one of the bad guys._

I opened one eye to look across to him and let out an involuntary scream when I saw his face was right in front of mine, a little too close for comfort. Okay, a lot too close.

"You're … right there," I started.

I tried to change to change the topic to make it a little less awkward but my brain and mouth just weren't co-operating.

"Moon pretty, don't y'think?"

"Ja, sure," he said boredly, not looking away from me for even a second.

"Umm, are you cold at all?" I asked, trying desperately to change this terrible atmosphere.

"Not really," he replied in his deep, monotone voice.

_Don't wet yourself, Finny. Get it together. Why does he have to be so scary? I can't live with this guy!_

"Oh, okay. Maybe it's just me then."

_This is what I get for living in the moment. Maybe I can run away! I'll wait until he falls asleep and then make my escape!_

Suddenly, he shifted closer to me, wrapping an arm round me and simultaneously covering me with his blanket, so that now we were both under it. I whimpered slightly at the shock of him suddenly being so close. His collar bone was right in front of my face and I could feel his nose pressed against my forehead.

"Is that warmer?" he asked me.

"Yes! Thank you!" I replied quickly, speaking fast out of awkwardness. This was bad. I had no chance of escaping now. If I tried to wriggle out of his grasp as he slept, I would definitely wake him.

Resigning myself to defeat, I did my best to calm myself and get some sleep. He didn't seem like a bad person – I think he just didn't communicate very well.

…

I awoke to see Sweden rolling up his sleeping bag and packing it in his bag. I let out a yawn and wriggled my shoulders to ease the pain in my back. My old bed seemed luxurious compared to this hard, unforgiving ground.

I looked around me – it was barely dawn.

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked the Swede. He continued packing as he spoke.

"It's best to keep moving. He might come lookin' fer us."

I supposed he was right. We should put some more distance between us and Denmark before the sun rises and he starts searching for us. I doubt he would let us leave so easily.

After we had eaten, I packed up my belongings and stood up. Sweden immediately held his hand out for my bag. I didn't want to start an argument so I just handed it to him.

After about two hours of walking, we hit a fork in the road. The main road carried on to the right, and a narrower, more overgrown lane branched off to the left. Sweden only stopped for a brief second before choosing the left road and I followed a few steps behind him.

He took us down more and more overgrown paths until eventually, I couldn't see any path and we were walking through a forest. It was darker in here because of all the huge trees blocking the sun's rays. I was beginning to wonder if we were lost. Any major town would be along the main road, so what were his intentions in going so far off track?

…

Norway's POV

I heard the front door open and close, a lot louder than was necessary. I stepped out into the hall to see Denmark standing by the door. He looked stressed and very tired. I wasn't surprised – he went out first thing this morning and hadn't returned until just now, when it was already dark outside.

He looked at me. He didn't need to speak for me to know what he was asking. I shook my head. At that, he slumped onto the floor.

"They aren't coming back, are they?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Did you really expect them too?" I countered, keeping my tone calm.

Denmark balled his hands into fists on the floor.

"Why?" I took a deep breath before answering.

"You know why."

I watched with mild interest as he slowly got to his feet and made his way over to me. He stood before me and clasped both of my hands in his, still keeping his gaze downwards.

"I won't be like that anymore. I won't lose you like I did with Sweden and Finland." He looked up into my eyes.

"From now on, you and I are equals. We'll form a dual kingdom together!"

I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly, letting the smallest of smiles grace my lips.

"It's late. You should sleep," I said. I didn't vocally accept his offer, but he knew from my lack of rejection that that was the case. He smiled back at me, and even though it was an exhausted smile, I was glad to see it back on his face.

…

Finland's POV

I sighed loudly. I'd done this several times over the past ten minutes but it seemed Sweden wasn't taking the hint. It was late and I was tired and my feet hurt. I've never walked so far in one day before. I guess being subtle was useless – I'd just have to come out and say it.

"Hey, maybe we should call it a night. It's really late and it's getting so dark we can barely see where we're going anymore." He grunted in, what I assume was, agreement. He set down our bags and started gathering wood for a fire. I decided to help since I hadn't done anything at all helpful since we left Denmark's house. I felt I'd been nothing but a burden.

It wasn't long before we had a small fire going, and I was very glad of the heat. I sat opposite him as we ate in silence. The light from the fire was dancing across his hair and face, and being reflected off his glasses. I found the sight somewhat mesmerising.

I was gazing at the light as it played across his hair, illuminating it to a golden hue, when I noticed two bright circles in the blackness behind him … and my heart stopped.

The horror must have shown on my face because Sweden twisted round to look behind him. Immediately he was on his feet and started backing towards me. I was so scared that I couldn't bring myself to move. Without even looking at me, Sweden had grabbed me by the arm and hoisted me up into a standing position. He grabbed a branch from the fire and swung it at the wolf as it advanced. The beast retreated slightly, but continued to circle us, just out of reach.

I heard a low growl behind me and turned to see another pair of eyes glowing in the firelight. I let out a frightened yelp.

All of I sudden, I didn't know what was happening anymore. Sweden was moving us this way and then that, so fast it made me dizzy. Wolves seemed to be attacking us from all directions. My brain wasn't functioning properly anymore. How much longer would I be able to remain conscious?

…

It was a miracle. The wolves had sustained enough injuries from the fire that they had retreated. Still, it wasn't safe to stay here. They could easily return once we had fallen asleep and we would be defenceless against them. Sweden must have realised this too. He swung our bags onto his back, grabbed me by the wrist and started pulling me away from the scene of our attack.

…

Sweden's POV

It had been more than an hour since we had been ambushed by the wolves and still we had not found somewhere safe to rest for the night. The trees were becoming more and more sparse – surely that meant we were headed towards the edge of the forest. We had to find somewhere soon because Finland was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion and even I was struggling to keep my eyes open and keep moving.

I was about to give up all hope when I saw it ahead of me – the main road. Few animals would venture out of the forest and onto a main road like this, so we should be safe. I forced myself towards the road, pulling Finland along behind me. At this stage, I was more dragging him than leading him.

As we reached the roadside, he collapsed onto the ground at my feet. I felt my legs give out under me and I fell down beside him. He was already asleep, his chest rising and falling in time with his slow, shallow breaths.

How could I let this happen? How could I be so _stupid? _He is the most important person in the world to me and I had led him into danger and almost gotten him killed. We had been lucky there were only three wolves. Had there been more, we wouldn't have made it out alive. I wrapped an arm around his sleeping form, holding him tighter to me as I thought of how close I had been to losing him.

I had taken us off the beaten path to make sure Denmark wouldn't be able to find us but instead, I nearly led us both to our deaths. From now on, we would be sticking to the main road. Denmark would be much easier to fend off than a pack of wild animals.


End file.
